


goal

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Arguments, M/M, Sexual Tension, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 10:50:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4561728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce is the oldest player on the pro hockey team, and Jason is the rookie. </p><p>For this prompt at comment-fic:<br/><i>(585): Nothing warms my heart more than the sight of a naked hockey player in my bed.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	goal

"Hey, Rookie!" Bruce, the oldest man on the team, skated up to Jason after practice was over. "Those were some good moves. But it's not all about strength. It takes finesse too."

"Finesse? Sounds a little too fancy."

Jason started to skate away, but Bruce grabbed him by the shoulder, moved his body back so that they were face to face.

"You spend more time in the box than on the ice, and you get kicked out of the whole game almost every time. It's not just a game of brute force. You have to think through your strategy. Play a more sophisticated game."

"Please, old man. I've got sophistication coming out of my ass." Jason winked at Bruce then, and turned around and left for the locker room. 

Bruce just grimaced.

\--

"We might have won if you hadn't gotten kicked out," Bruce said testily. 

"That guy had it coming. You know he did."

"It wasn't the smart play."

"Screw the smart play. I made him think twice before he tried that shit again," Jason said. His voice was calm and snarky as ever, but Bruce could see that his nostrils were flaring.

"Look," Bruce said, putting his hand on Jason's shoulder, causing Jason to look over at Bruce's hand with confusion. "I'm not saying it's your fault we lost."

"You absolutely just said that."

"I just meant... think about the team. Not what you personally think is right. Think about winning, not feeling better."

"Whatever, man."

\--

"I don't want to hear it, Bruce."

"Then you know what I'm going to say."

"Yeah, no one can be as great a player as the glorious Bruce Wayne."

"I was going to say that you have talent. A lot of it. And you're fucking wasting it."

Jason stared at him, confused. He seemed to breathing hard. "Whatever. I know what I'm doing."

"Just think about what I'm saying for once. Or your career's going to last about 2 seasons."

Jason looked genuinely crushed. "Go fuck yourself old man."

He stormed away, and Bruce couldn't think of anything to call out after him except, "Dammit, Jason!"

\--

"Kettle?"

"What?" Bruce said. It was just the two of them left in the locker room, and Jason had clearly lingered to talk to him alone.

"Hey, Kettle. I'm Pot." Jason grinned.

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I wasn't being a hypocrite."

"The ONE time I try to not do anything against the rules, and guess who beats the shit out of the enforcer who keeps knocking me down? Mr. Self-Righteous himself." Jason was smiling wide, almost adoring at him, despite the mockery.

"I did it at the right time. Not indiscriminately."

Jason, honestly, started giggling. "Whatever. You did it to protect me. Seriously, dude, you are so into me."

Bruce stared. "What?"

Jason leaned in and kissed him, soft, almost chaste.

Bruce paused then grabbed Jason by the hip and pulled him closer. They kissed again, this time all tongue and teeth, a battle for dominance that, eventually, Jason let Bruce win.

When they parted, Jason was panting. "So, like, if we do this, are you going to stop nagging me all the time?"

Bruce tilted his head. "Honestly? If anything, it's going to be worse."

Jason laughed. "Fine. Better make it worth it, though." He ground a little closer to Bruce.

Bruce kissed him again, pushing his tongue in deep circles, Jason submitting with a savoring moan.

\--

"I get it now, by the way." Jason was lying naked in Bruce's bed, sprawled out, hands behind his head. He looked tired and blissed but, still, somehow, like a smartass.

"What?" Bruce asked.

"What you did just now? Finesse game. Totally get it."

"Shut up."

"Seriously, your dick is a fucking miracle. Your dick won the 1984 Olympics. Your dick should have like the cover of Sports Illustrated and an endorsement deal with Nike."

Bruce tried very hard not to smile. "You're ridiculous."

"Cat's out the bag, Bruce. I know you adore me."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, then sat next to Jason, ran a hand up his chest slowly. "So if I'm the winner, are you the prize?"

"My ass is the fucking Stanley Cup, baby."

"That is wrong on so many levels."

"I just meant that people dream their whole lives of having something as sweet as my ass." 

Bruce, against his better judgment, shrugged and said, "Well, can't argue with you there."

Jason seemed shocked for a moment, then grinned wildly. "But you know, if you want to keep me, you're going to have to work for it. You're going to have to play a very sophisticated game."

"No games," Bruce countered. He leaned down and kissed Jason, long and slow, his fingers soft on the side of Jason's neck.

"How about only games that we play for keeps?" Jason said, quiet suddenly.

Something tightened in Bruce's chest, low and sweet. "Sure, Jay. Eye on the prize."

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any sports details I got wrong. Consider it an AU slightly different from real pro hockey.


End file.
